Players
by Aengeal Gladefire
Summary: They met in a game and discovered a shared interest in fanfiction. Lies destroyed their relationship until another player entered the game.


He was taller than she expected. She immediately chided herself, remembering she had only seen the upper third of his body in the picture. How did she ever get the idea he was short? Oh, but yes, the face was the same, perhaps a bit older, and his hair was much shorter. He still had the mustache.

He walked through the crowded room very much the alpha male lion on the prowl. He caught her looking and she smiled. His in return was politely disinterested, despite her best efforts to be appealing with plunging neckline and pushup bra. He looked away then an instant later he was staring at her, his eyebrows arched. He had recognized her. She silently awarded him a point in his favor given the age difference between the picture in his possession and how she appeared now.

A sardonic smile curled his lips and she understood the attraction. Even the way he held himself and in the simple movement of walking to the table and sitting down beside her; oh yes, how well she understood. That easy, sure self awareness of his body and in his written words, casually confident and rightfully smug. She suddenly wished she was twenty again and had the stamina to ride this bad boy into the ground.

"I know you I think," he said, smiling as if they shared an old secret. "Forgive me for failing to remember from just where. We have we met before, haven't we?"

"You have and you haven't," she said with a glance at the serving tables. Sam had two more to check out and the line was moving slowly. She had to time this just right. "Someone borrowed my identity to talk to you." She mentally crossed her fingers, hoping he would rise to the bait.

"Was it someone you know?" he said, frowning. "How … how did you find out?" He thumped the table, recognition flashing across his face. "That was you – the picture was taken when you were like twenty something?"

She nodded, wondering if he had almost asked if she had read some of his conversations with the identity thief. "I was eighteen."

"I must say you are still lovely," he said as he put his hand to his chest. A crocodile couldn't have been more sincere. "Do you know who used your picture?"

She glanced at the serving tables again. Sam was carefully balancing two plates while she picked up silverware wrapped in paper napkins.

"Some of your conversations were astounding," she blurted. "The one about rough sex was so interesting I'm going to use it in one of my stories. I'm a romance novelist, by the way," she said, amazed at her ability to keep a straight face at his reaction. So that's what being 'bug-eyed and slack jawed' looked like, she thought.

Sam had to be almost to the table by now. "… my daughter …"

She watched him turn in his chair to look where she was pointing but her focus was on him as her experiment was set into motion. His eyes widened as he looked up into Sam's face. His face paled and then flushed as he took in her shapely figure and long slender legs. How her creamy skin glowed against the black cloth of her dress. How her green eyes sparkled with emerald fire and how her wayward red-brown hair caressed her lightly freckled shoulders.

His Adam's apple rose and fell. Sam gasped, then turned and fled, her high heels loud on the wooden floor. He stared after her for a long time. "Pardon me," he whispered, getting to his feet. "I need a cigarette," he mumbled and walked off in the opposite direction.

She shrugged into her coat and picking up Sam's things, headed for the door. For a set-up scene it had gone rather well, she thought. The question was if whether or not her daughter was going to kill her now or later.

Sam made her wait outside the hotel for twenty minutes before she pulled the car up to the curb. She got into the vehicle without a word and buckled her seatbelt without looking at her daughter. Sam calmly merged into the traffic as if she had not been betrayed by her own mother.

"He's a cheater and a liar," Sam said quietly.

"The two of you worked so well together – the sparks were fabulous! I have never seen you write better. Besides, he's a man. They all lie and cheat."

"He wanted me to send him dirty pictures. To add to his … collection." Her voice was quietly outraged. "He uses women …"

"You don't think they use him, too, dear?" She sighed as she watched Sam slowly shake her head, her eyes trained straight ahead. "Is it because I cheated on your dad?"

"No, momma, I understand what you were going through, then," Sam said. "That guy … he's just …" She shrugged. "No."

She studied her daughter's face in the lights of oncoming traffic. "I love you, my darling most favorite daughter."

"Mom … I'm your only daughter," Sam said, joining in on the old joke.

"Yes, dear," she said and looked out into the night past her window, pretending she didn't suddenly have something in her eye.

* * *

><p>The story goes on with Sam entering the World of Warcraft writing contest and it turns out the guy came in second and she was fifth. The writers at WoW liked a story they had worked together on however and asked them to create a quest chain for the next expansion.<p>

I consider this finished 'as-is' until events change. At the beginning this was supposed to be a happy ending love story but I really didn't like the guy either. I set it aside for a time and recently decided it would work if it ended with her finally willing to trust him so they could work together. Final thought was that basically this is another spin on "You Got Mail" and I lost interest in it.


End file.
